poached for a small gland on the underbelly
of males, used to make a perfume popular in
the Orient. (The poachers were outsiders
from down-valley tribes; Sherpas, being
strict Buddhists, abhor killing.) Now the
Chinese have learned to raise musk deer and
tap the gland without killing the animal. De
spite that breakthrough, the black market
for Nepalese musk oil continues to flourish.
The area is rich in flora too. From below
the monastery I could see distinct forest
zones of Himalayan birch, blue pine, and
JONATHANT. WRIGHT(ABOVE)
Bearing the burden for his own future,
a Sherpa lad carries rocksfor a new
school. Because Nepal is one of the
world's poorest nations,outside funds
and the efforts of Sir Edmund Hillary
have been vital to the school-building
program.That aid, along with the
Sherpas' zealfor education,will help
preparetheir children (facingpage) to
deal with the world on equalterms.
silver fir mixed with juniper. The forest sur
rounding the monastery was lush with rho
dodendron. So far the lust for firewood has
not run rampant here.
Founded in 1923, Thyangboche Monas
tery commands a view of Everest, Nuptse,
Lhotse, and the swordlike summit of Ama
Dablam. I pitched my tent on the monastery
grounds, and in the morning 19-year-old
Kami Tenzing, a Sherpa I hired to accom
pany me to Base Camp, called, "Tea ready,
sahib." (This word, pronounced "saab" like
the automobile, no longer connotes servil
ity, but simply means "sir.")
I opened my tent and Kami handed in a
mug of hot tea. A few minutes later he set a
pan of steaming wash water outside the
door. Hospitality is typical of Sherpas, a
very winning people. As Sir Edmund had
told me, "The Sherpas have so many charac
teristics that we, as Westerners, like to think
we have: They are tough, courteous, toler
ant, cheerful."
The Sherpa quality I value most is unfail
ing honesty. With only Sherpas around I
could leave my pack outside a teahouse, or
go off and leave my camera and money in my
tent. When other trekkers were present, I
could not be quite so trusting.
Yaks Thrive Where Humans Pant
Five hours after leaving Thyangboche,
we arrived at the day's destination, Pher
iche. With one wide and lonely street, the
town seemed desolate. A chill wind blew; a
few miles away a glacier lay in the valley
floor like the gray tongue of a dead animal.
In the distance were three black dots, graz
ing yaks. Despite the dismal setting, I felt
comforted to know that nature could create
animals happy to live in that barren realm.
All day we had passed these amazing ani
mals, each freighting more than a hundred
pounds: trade goods, fuel, expedition equip
ment. Yaks have to stay at high altitudes;
Sherpas hesitate to take them below
Namche (11,290 feet). If yaks go lower, one
rather fanciful Sherpa told me, "Oh, no
good. Yak get very sick. Get malaria!"
Altitude works just the opposite for hu
mans. Mountain sickness can be serious,
and the majority of trekkers above Pheriche
(14,435 feet) suffer some symptoms: head
aches, even pulmonary edema, a potentially
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